


Body Heat

by TextualDeviance



Series: The Raven and the Dove [6]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TextualDeviance/pseuds/TextualDeviance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As deep winter descends on Kattegat, a pregnant and ailing Lagertha simply can't get warm. Ragnar asks for Athelstan's help in heating their bed. </p><p>Not like that, you filthy-minded deviants. </p><p>OK, maybe a little like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a few weeks after [Not Enough](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1644059), during 1x06 (after the Ragnarok scene.)

No matter how closely Ragnar held her in his arms, or how many furs he piled on the bed; no matter how many bedwarming pans full of hot coals he slipped under the covers, Lagertha would not stop shivering.

It hadn't ceased snowing for three days in a row, and though the drifts served to insulate the building to a degree, the oppressive cold still seeped in through the cracks and chimney holes. Lagertha, her pregnancy already causing her exhaustion, pain and constant nausea, was now near freezing as well. Despite her attempts to remain stoic, and hide her suffering, Ragnar could see how badly off she truly was, and he worried.

"Would you like to sleep by the big fire in the great hall? I could build a bed for you there."

"No." She shook her head. "The smell from the pigs and goats makes me want to vomit. I must stay here."

"I don't know what else I can do to make you warm." He muttered into her soft, tangled hair. "I only wish there were two of me, so that I could wrap my arms around you from both sides."

"Wait." She pulled back. "That might help."

"What? Am I to split myself in half somehow?" He couldn't help a teasing grin.

"Much as that might amuse me, no. I was thinking we could bring someone else in to help warm the bed."

"Shall I wake the children?"

"They're in their own bed, and they took long enough getting to sleep tonight. I do not wish to wake them." She stroked his face with a chilly hand. "But I am reminded that someone else sleeps alone tonight, and perhaps he might wish to be warmer, too."

Ragnar twitched. Athelstan had gone to bed early, complaining of a back stiffened by the cold. Now that he realized the poor man was likely freezing, all alone under his thin pile of coverings, he felt heartsick that he hadn't raised the suggestion before.

Still, if Athelstan were to join them in the bed, Ragnar controlling his actions so as not to disturb his wife with them might be difficult. She had been, as he knew she would be, quite agreeable when he told her of his trysts with the priest, which were now happening regularly. She only made him promise to suggest again to Athelstan someday—when her body was no longer being so rudely claimed by the petulant child inside it—that they all share a bed. The sharing she suggested now wasn't like that, but Ragnar worried that he would be so beset by thoughts of the other kind that no-one would sleep that night.

However, her comfort was paramount—far more so than managing his libido—so he agreed. Slipping out, gasping as the chill hit him, he threw a thick lynx skin around his shoulders and quickly scurried to Athelstan's room.

The young man was sound asleep when he crept in the room, his breathing deep and even and his face placid. Ragnar had to smile. Ever since their journey back from England, he had enjoyed getting a chance to watch Athelstan sleep. As quiet and gentle as he was in his waking hours, he was even more so with his big, blue eyes closed and his lips barely parted. Of what did he dream? Ragnar wondered. Whatever glories his God had promised the faithful, he supposed. Although these days, he couldn't help hoping that he himself featured in those nighttime visions on occasion.  

He lay a hand on the gently moving lump of fur and blankets.

"Athelstan?" He whispered, keeping his voice low and soft. "May I wake you?"

The young man stirred, turning to face him, and his bleary, sleep-dusted eyes flipped open. "Ragnar? What is it? Is something wrong?"

"In a way, yes."

Athelstan sat up, groaning a little at stiff muscles. "What's the matter? How can I help?"

"It's Lagertha. I cannot warm her, and I worry about her becoming ill. She suggested that it might help to have someone else in the bed to add to what heat my body can give her."

Athelstan frowned. "I'm not sure I'm ready—wait. You're not asking for that, are you?"

Ragnar shook his head. "Much as I may like the idea, no. Not tonight at least. I just need her to be well, and I'm hoping you can help with that somehow."

"Of course. I've worried about her lately myself. She seems not to be eating much." Athelstan slipped on his boots and gathered his furs and blankets around him.

"That is her delicate stomach. It was easy when she carried Gyda. But though Bjorn roiled her stomach as well, it was never as bad as this. When I finally meet this new son of mine, I shall scold him for the misery he's brought his mother so far."

Athelstan stood, and Ragnar draped an arm around his shoulders as they braved the cold walk back to the earl's quarters. "I see now what you mean about your lands being harsh. We have deep winters in England, particularly the North, where I am from, but I've never experienced anything like this. It's no wonder you wish to settle elsewhere."

Ragnar chuckled. "In the glory of spring, there is nowhere else I wish to be, but every winter I hope to find a new land—perhaps one where they don't even have a word for snow."

Lagertha raised on an elbow as they came in. "Hello, Athelstan. Thank you so much for agreeing to come warm my bed."

"It is my pleasure," he said. "However I may be of help, I am happy to do so."

Ragnar dropped the lynx skin back on the bed, and quickly dashed back in. Lagertha whimpered slightly at the rush of coldness, but quickly moved toward him and into his arms.

"Come." Lagertha beckoned Athelstan to her other side, lifting the covers. After laying his own blankets atop the growing pile, he sidled in.

"I am sorry if my feet are cold, my lady."

She giggled girlishly. "They're not so bad. And having you near is helping."

Ragnar felt his heart swell with joy. He also felt some swelling in other places, but for the moment, having both of the people who laid claim to his love these days in the same bed was delightful. Still, Lagertha shivered, and he couldn't help the empty feeling of doubt and concern in his chest.

"Would you like me to move closer?" Athelstan asked. Ragnar could not see exactly how they were positioned, but it seemed Athelstan wasn't touching her.

"Yes. Please." She turned on her side, grunting some with the effort. "If you don't mind, could you put an arm around me?"

"Like this?" A rustle, and then he finally moved close enough that Ragnar could feel his position: close behind Lagertha, her body nestled into his, and his arm around her waist, palm resting on the side of her swollen belly.

Lagertha sighed happily. "Yes. Thank you."

Ragnar moved closer, too, kissing her worryingly cold cheek and molding his body around her belly. He slid a hand up from her hip, and placed it atop Athelstan's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Are you warm enough yourself?" He asked, peering over Lagertha's shoulder at Athelstan's shadowed face.

"I am. When I was in my own bed, I actually wondered if my lips might freeze if they were too moist. This is nice. Thank you for inviting me. I hope this makes a difference."  

"It already is," Lagertha murmured sleepily. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Ragnar felt the stiffness begin to drain from her body. In a moment, however, she perked up again. "Oh!" She turned, looking back.

"My lady! I'm so sorry." Athelstan wriggled away, and removed his hand. "I didn't intend that."

"Didn't intend what?" Ragnar frowned.

Lagertha laughed and grabbed Athelstan's hand, putting it back where it was. "I'm not offended. I must say I'm even flattered. From what Ragnar told me, I didn't think you were interested, but clearly you are."

"Ah!" Ragnar giggled throatily as he realized what the poor priest's body must have done. Though the thought of it now made his own body respond in kind.

"I am so embarrassed," Athelstan whinged pathetically.

"You needn't be." She laced her fingers through his. "Were my body not so uncomfortable, I would enjoy helping you solve your problem. I am sorry I cannot."

"It is well enough. Honestly, I'm not sure I could—well. I'm just not sure I could." Athelstan sighed, apparently relieved that he would not be expected to learn how to navigate his way around the body of a woman—and a pregnant one at that—on the spot.  

"Will you be all right?" Ragnar asked, placing his hand atop theirs and stroking their fingers tenderly.

"Yes." Athelstan's voice was still tight, but he was beginning to sound more calm. "If you remember, I spent more than 10 years learning how to control myself. I can do so now."

"I will make it up to you. I promise. I'll even teach you more new things."

"Ragnar!" Athelstan grumbled in frustration and squirmed. "That's actually not helping."

All three burst into giggles, and then Ragnar felt something lovely under his lips: Lagertha's cheek, formerly so cold he wondered if it might gather frost, was now back to a normal temperature. Indeed, her whole body seemed to be. Her breath was no longer freezing in his face, and her hand, nestled between theirs, was downright warm. All tension had left her limbs, and finally, for the first time in weeks, she seemed back to her old, sure self.

As if to confirm that all was indeed well, a small lump pushed up from her belly, shoving aside their hands.

Athelstan, whose hand was on the bottom, barked in surprise. "What was that?"

"That was my son!" Ragnar cried, bringing both his hands around to cup his wife's belly and looking down. "Hello, little one!"

Lagertha moved Athelstan's hand back over the spot. Sure enough, another quick push met their touch. "I had felt him quicken a few weeks ago, but this is the first time he's moved enough to be felt from the outside. To be honest, he has been so quiet that it worried me some."

"I had no idea they did that!" Athelstan's voice was filled with wonder as he caressed the area.

"That's how we know the pregnancy is progressing as it should," Ragnar said. "If there is no movement, it is a sign that the baby may not be alive or may otherwise have something wrong. I am very glad to know he is active, as much trouble as he has given us."

"I am glad to know it, too," Athelstan agreed, "even if the feeling is so strange to me."

"Imagine how strange it is from my perspective!" Lagertha teased. She rolled over onto her back, stretching a little to give the baby more room to move. Her voice grew quiet again. "I'm glad you were here for this, Athelstan. I think you helping me get warm is what encouraged the baby to kick. You have brought me much joy." She turned and kissed his forehead.

"And I as well." Ragnar reached over her and stroked Athelstan's cheek.

"You are both most welcome. I feel honored to be here." He moved closer again, and nestled his head on Lagertha's shoulder.

She murmured happily and petted his head. "If you both don't mind, however, I'm relaxed enough now that I'm feeling my eyes close on their own. I need rest to face another day of this child, especially now that he will be trying to bruise me."

"Of course, my love." Ragnar leaned over to kiss her mouth, delighting in the healthy warmth of it.

"Indeed," Athelstan added. "Sleep well, my lady. We shall be here when you awake."


End file.
